


You Are Always Looking Out for Me

by oneawkwardcookie



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Breakfast, First Kiss, Fluff, Kinda, M/M, Pre-Relationship Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Songfic, Waffles, a teeny bit of angst that's more tension that anything else and is VERY quickly resolved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:08:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26113165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneawkwardcookie/pseuds/oneawkwardcookie
Summary: They look out for each other, in so many different ways.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 29
Kudos: 214





	You Are Always Looking Out for Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is a song-fic, inspired by both the song lyrics and the music video. Brownie points if you can guess which song!
> 
> The first bit is chronologically set after the second part, but the order makes sense in line with the music video this fic is based on.

It’s not the first time that Buck is making waffles when he wanders into the kitchen in the morning, and it won’t be the last, and he really should be surprised by both of those facts, but he’s instead distracted by his son’s excited cry of “thank you!”

Looking down, he sees that the plate in front of Christopher is an edible work of art, the breakfast treat topped with two smaller waffles pieces, in the place of a nose and smiling mouth. There are chocolate chip teeth that are slowly melting, and two strawberry halves in the place of eyes, surrounded by chocolate sauce glasses. The whole thing is topped off with far too much squirty cream, swirled to look like Chris’ unruly hair.

He looks up to see Buck leaning back against the counter, ankles crossed as he watches Chris eagerly grab the chocolatey smile that will soon mimic his.

He swipes his finger through the cream and pops it into his mouth, earning an affronted yelp from his son that he ignores in favour of grabbing some juice from the fridge. He hears the click of the waffle maker opening and the scraping of plates on the counter and the chair being dragged across the floor.

By the time he settles into his seat, there’s a plate of waffles in front of him too.

“What, I don’t get your special waffles?”

Buck looks up, face flicking through surprise and confusion before ending on a smirk that holds both, though he doesn’t say anything.

The next time Buck’s over at their house on a Friday evening, they talk into the night, long after Chris has been put to bed, and Buck ends up crashing on his sofa, as a compromise between sharing the bed and driving back.

He wakes up to the surprisingly familiar smell of cooking and the sound of quiet chatter drifting over from his kitchen. When he slides into his chair and a plate is placed in front of him, he is sharply reminded of his throwaway comment.

It’s a plate of waffles, but it’s also… “is this supposed to be a baseball in a glove?”

“You’re not a man of very many interests, Eddie.”

He opens his mouth to protest over his son’s smug smile, only to shut it when he realises that Buck isn’t entirely wrong.

“I’m not boring,” he mumbles weakly. Buck’s already turned back to plate himself some waffles. 

“Never said you were.”

**

Buck can’t seem to help it, first with his sister and then with Eddie: he wants to show them around the city he lives in, help them see what he sees, maybe convince them to stay and make it feel more like a home. That’s why he finds himself outside the tourist information centre on a Saturday morning, browsing through the stands of leaflets before grabbing a handful and heading back to his car. Before he pulls out of the parking lot, he shoots off a text to confirm that Eddie and Chris are still free to hang out, starting the engine with a grin when he gets a “ready in 15” back.

By the time he pulls up to the Diaz house and knocks on the door, the excitement has been somewhat tempered by his nerves at being…too much, but that’s all washed away when the door swings open to reveal Eddie, smiling softly.

He fans the papers in front of his chest in the way of a greeting, only to get a barked laugh.

“Chris is just finishing getting ready, come on in.”

Chris comes out of one of the doors in the hallways, and he gives Buck a friendly hello before disappearing through another door.

Buck hovers a little in the kitchen, watching as Eddie packs the last few snacks from the dining table into his backpack.

“Where are we going?” The question breaks the comfortable silence.

“I picked up a star map?” It gets him a quirked brow and half a smile. “Hollywood Walk of Fame?” That brings out the other half of the smile, and a nod of understanding.

When Chris comes out, he gets lathered in sunscreen, peals of laughter echoing around the house when Eddie rubs at his neck for far longer than necessary. Eddie passes the map and a marker to Chris, asking the boy to pick out some people that he’d want to see, as Eddie gets himself covered as well, before handing the bottle to him.

By the time they’re ready to go, Eddie has also picked out a few people to go and see, both Diaz boys’ choices circled in red. Eddie offers to drive them, which gives him time to look through the choices, studying them until he realises that Eddie is looking at him out of the corner of his eyes. He folds the paper back up. 

They wander down the boulevard, keeping their eyes out for the ones they’re interested in. Chris walks a couple of steps ahead, which is why he spots all his picks first. They’re mostly Disney or television characters, and Chris poses each time, only letting his father take a few quick snaps before he’s off again on his search, leaving Eddie still holding his phone out, camera poised on where his son was. They’re normally alerted when Chris has spotted one of his picks by a cry of ‘Dad!’, but they get a high pitched ‘Tink!’ when they reach Tinkerbell.

The young boy’s spaceman t-shirt is surprisingly apt as he poses next to the stars of Buzz Aldrin and Neil Armstrong, pointing to the helmet on his clothing. Both Eddie and Chris pose roaring over Godzilla’s star, before Eddie kneels down, lifting Chris onto his shoulders, crutches left on the floor as Chris raises his arms, fingers bending into claws as he roars again. Buck snaps a few photos, nodding as Eddie asks if he’s got it.

Eddie’s a little more subdued when it comes to the ones that only he’s interested in, just snapping a quick overhead shot before moving on. Buck offers to take a photo of him with them, but he shakes his head with a small smile each time. He vaguely recognises some of the names, if only from when Chimney had scoffed at his lack of film knowledge or from one of the DVDs that had been shoved at him in the locker room after enough missed references – Harrison Ford, Billy Crystal, Gregory Peck.

He keeps offering to take a photo of Eddie, and finally succeeds when they stop at a star to find Eddie waving his hands over it in an excitable fashion. His blank look prompts, “Kurt Russell? Escape from New York?”

His long-suffering sigh when Buck just shakes his head seems almost fond, so he asks again. “You sure you don’t want a photo with it?” The pause makes him bolder, hand on Eddie’s shoulder as he gently pushes him towards it. It’s a tentative smile, but it’s a start.

After that, Eddie makes more comments, pointing out people he recognises - John Travolta, Fred Astaire, Antonio Banderas (“Zorro?!?”), and stopping for photos. Eddie pauses a little when they pass by Hitchcock and Stallone, but he doesn’t stop for a photo even when prompted, only pulling out some snacks for Chris and a bottle for water for each of them.

Eddie nudges him teasingly when he stops by Dwayne Johnson, so he gets him back by waiting until he’s taking a swig of water before shouting out, “Can you smell what The Rock is cooking?” The resulting splutter and spray of water onto the sidewalk is worth the look of exasperation he gets and the laughter that erupts from Chris.

“ _Lassie_ has a star?!” Eddie’s outburst makes him chuckle, a sense of ease washing over him at how ridiculously offended he sounds. He gets an eye roll when he offers “90s kid?” as an explanation for wanting a photo with the NSYNC star.

He still feels like a tourist even in his own city, but he wouldn’t give it up for the world. They pass Donald Duck, Mickey and Minnie Mouse, and Winnie the Pooh, and the joy from the young child doesn’t lessen at all throughout the day. He turns to see Eddie looking at Chris with a fond smile, clearly enraptured by his son’s endless curiosity. He doesn’t expect to see that million-watt smile turned to him, not fading or changing, gleaming in the afternoon sun and setting something sparking through him.

It’s only been a week, an explosive week but seven days nonetheless, but he feels that this, this moment that they share, is meant for him. Maybe it’ll even be something he gets to keep.

**

Their first trip together inspires Buck for another outing with the Diaz boys, although this requires a little more planning and precise timing, along with some sneaky swapping of shifts that earn him an eye roll from Hen and a discerning look from Bobby.

Halloween rolls around before he realises it, and November passes quickly too. It’s a cold Friday morning when they finish their shift, and Buck jogs over to catch up with Eddie as he walks to his car.

“What are you doing now?” It comes out in a breathless rush, breath fogging between them.

“…going home to sleep?” It’s an obvious answer after a night shift, particularly one that had one too many calls to allow for even a stolen nap.

“I meant… do you have any plans for tonight? With Chris, the two of you, are you…doing anything at night?”

“At night?” Eddie’s brow is getting more and more furrowed, so he takes a deep breath.

“There’s a meteor shower that’ll be visible tonight, and I thought Chris…and you, would be interested in going up to Griffin Park to see it.”

Eddie’s face is slack now, an unfamiliar emotion bubbling under the surface, before he nods. They quickly agree the timings and when Buck will be around to pick them up, before they head back to get some rest.

12 hours later, Eddie is carrying Chris, whilst he follows behind, picnic basket in one hand and crutches in the other. They find a flat clearing and lay out a blanket. Eddie settles himself with Buck on one side and Chris on the other, and tugs a blanket over the three of their legs, before handing round thermoses. Soon there’s only the low murmuring of the wind in the trees behind them and the quiet sounds of hot chocolate being sipped.

It doesn’t take long for Chris to hand his flask back to Eddie and start talking excitedly about the constellations he learned about from his book on outer space. He’s leaning over Eddie to talk to him, until he pushes himself up and asks his dad to move over a bit, getting settled between them before he continues on about how he has stars in his room (well not real stars, _obviously_ , but star stickers on his closet) and it would be cool if he could get them on his ceiling so they looked like the actual constellations. 

In turn, he tells Christopher about what they’re going to see tonight: the Geminid meteor shower which is unique because it comes from an asteroid instead of a comet.

“Does it happen often?”

“This particular one happens every year around this time, but there’s also other ones too. Whether we can see them and how many we can see depends on where the moon is and if the clouds are in the way.” Chris nods along in eager comprehension, seemingly satisfied with the answers when he lies back. 

Buck and Eddie join him, heads resting on the pillows they’d bought, letting their eyes adjust to the inky sky and the darkness that’s so unfamiliar in the brightness of LA, with all its sunshine and lights.

Eddie is the first to spot one, arm shooting up towards a faint streak of light that zips across the sky. The frequency increases as they lie there, each of them pointing out when they spot another line, bright white against the dark and flitting over the sparse stars.

He’s about to point out another one when Eddie’s hand drops onto his shoulder, arched over Chris’ head. Eddie points silently to Chris, who has dropped off to sleep, curled up with his head against Eddie’s chest.

They stay there for another hour. 

**

On a day when all of LA seems to have decided to discard common sense and replace it with a recklessness that could only happen on the hottest day of the year, he finds himself driving the fire truck, Eddie joining him at the front.

The sheer number of emergencies must be an all-time high, and the fact that a high proportion of them seem to be road rage related translates to their ability to criss-cross across LA. Yet, the same synchronicity that makes them perfect partners for rope rescues and other high-risk manoeuvres also translates to this part of the job. He drives a thousand miles an hour, and Eddie is a radar detector, a race car navigator, his partner against crime; always looking out for him, and keeping them and LA safe.

The pace is non-stop, and they don’t make it back to the station for lunch. They’re just coming off an incident where he had to wrangle three cats from a tree, and he doesn’t need to look in a mirror or even at his hands to know that he’s going red. It still makes him feel self-conscious when Eddie shoves a water bottle in his hand and tells him he looks dehydrated. The thirst knocks the air from his lungs and he gratefully gulps down the whole bottle in ten seconds flat, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth as Eddie smirks at him and silently hands him another bottle, as well as a bottle of sunscreen _(where had that come from?)_

Part of him is glad for the flush of his skin when Eddie gives him a once over and tells him he’s missed a spot.

**

It’s one of those shifts that has intensely busy peaks and long troughs, which is why he and Buck allow themselves to take a nap during one of the quiet periods. He finds himself being shaken awake, even though there’s no alarm, and keeps his eyes closed as he groans.

“You were sleeping for so long, dinner’s ready.” Buck’s voice is too chipper, but he knows that it says more about his mood at being woken up mid-sleep cycle than his opinion of Buck’s attitude.

“I was just getting into it. The mattress is pretty good, definitely better than mine.”

He should have known that the throwaway comment wouldn’t be the end of it, which is why he’s not surprised when Buck is over at his on a Tuesday morning, telling him that they’re going mattress shopping

“Buck, I’m not really the shopping type.” He winces a little at how much he sounds like his father, but he pushes that thought away.

“ _Eddie_ ,” Buck presses, taking another step forward as his hands reach forward for emphasis, “you only get one back and you know better than most how important a good night’s sleep is.”

Eddie tries and fails to stifle a yawn, and rubs the back of his neck, both in silent resignation at Buck’s answering raised eyebrow, and because Buck’s not wrong and today was just another example of him waking up in the morning feeling achy and not entirely well rested.

“Plus, you need new pillows as well: you’re gonna give yourself a crick if you keep sleeping on those rocks.”

He’s heard that complaint before, when Buck first started to crash on his sofa and he offered up one of his spare pillows, only to have it tossed back at his face. He knows there’s no point in protesting, so he grabs a jacket and follows Buck to his jeep.

The store is massive: rows upon rows of beds with eager salespeople weaving their way around in a way that reminds him of Pacman. Buck’s clearly done his research because he heads purposefully towards a sales rep to ask where the pocket spring mattresses are, and if there is a system for the firmness of mattresses. He doesn’t quite hear the woman’s response, so he’s left to jog to catch up when Buck strides off towards his target.

They stop in the back corner of the shop, and Buck flings an arm at the beds in front of them

“You sleep on your back so something medium-firm is probably best for you, and these are all pocket springs, which are supposed to be the best.”

There’s a brief silence, as Eddie warily eyes the tags on each and the prices of them, before Buck pipes up again.

“They’re not going to try themselves.” Buck practically leaps onto one of the beds, bouncing a little before he settles back, arms crossed behind his head as he grins up at Eddie. Eddie glances around to see other people lying down on mattresses too. He hums to himself and walks round the other side of the mattress, sitting down and lifting his legs onto it. When he turns his head to the side, Buck’s looking at him expectantly.

“Well?”

“It’s…nice.”

“Eddie,” the eagerness seems to be veering into exasperation, “is it _good_ though?”

“This is only the first one Buck.” He pushes himself upright, swinging his legs out. Buck reaches a hand out, smirk on his face as he tugs him upright, letting go to walk towards the next mattress. Three mattresses in and he thinks he’s found the _one._ The price tag doesn’t make him balk, and he can feel himself melting into the mattress, turning liquid with relaxation. It doesn’t help that Buck has gone and grabbed some pillows for him to try too, and the ones they’re currently both lying on are like (very supportive) clouds. He closes his eyes for a second, to imagine if this could be his nightly routine, to drift off to sleep in such comfort…

The next thing he knows, he’s being shaken awake and he lifts his arm up from around the person next to him, tipping himself onto his back and opening his eyes to see the woman from earlier looking at him with a mix of fondness and exasperation. He hears a sleepy chuckle from beside him and sees that Buck is lying next to him, hair all sleep tousled as he grins cheekily up at the woman, before turning that smile at him. He can’t help but smile back, and it stays on his face even while he’s clumsily getting off the bed and apologising to the woman as he drags a sniggering Buck out of the store.

He goes back the next day and gets those exact pillows and mattress: he's found exactly what he was looking for.

**

It’s a rare weekend that they’re both off work and some of Eddie’s nieces are down from Texas, so Abuela’s house has apparently turned into a playground, with Eddie’s aunt Pepa staying over to keep the raucous children under some semblance of control. It also means that, according to Eddie, Chris got as close as he ever got to being demanding when he asked to stay over for the weekend.

Eddie had dropped him off on Friday evening. The sun had risen on Saturday a few hours ago, and the last of the supplies have been packed into the trunk, shoved under the tents, ready for their weekend trip.

They get into the car, doors slamming simultaneously and seatbelts pulled on in mirror image to each other, when their hands slip against each other as he goes to change gears and Eddie reaches to put in his CD. They stay frozen for a second, the atmosphere charging up with something heavy until they move apart like magnets.

He brings his hand back to the gear-shift, keeping it there even after he’s changed to Drive. It stays there once they’re out of the city and cruising along the highway, his hand resting next to him as he keeps his eyes on the road and not on the way that Eddie is stock still next to him, hands firmly clasped in his lap.

The CD finishes and the silence in the car is electric. He turns at the same time Eddie does, eyes catching for what seems like far too long before he drags his gaze back to the open road in front of him. There aren’t any other cars around but staring into those golden-brown eyes feels too dangerous.

“Eddie.” His voice feels too loud in the silence of the car, hanging in the air between them. Eddie can’t look at him. It’s how he knows that this is real, that they’re heading towards the cliff edge and he feels his stomach prepare for the free fall.

He slows the car, pulling it into the side of the road and waiting for the dust to settle before undoing his seatbelt and turning in his seat.

“Please look at me Eddie.” He chases his eyes as Eddie turns his head, eyes flitting from side to side. It’s when they settle on his lips for a long moment that he knows what he needs to do.

“Can I?” The nod would be imperceptible if he wasn’t staring straight at him.

He reaches his hands across the car, torso tilting towards him as he places his hands on Eddie’s shoulders, his thumbs slipping towards his neck as he leans to presses his lips to Eddie’s waiting mouth. Eddie melts into it, letting out a groan that stirs something in him to press closer at the same time that Eddie’s hands come up to stroke his jaw and angle his face.

Buck pulls away with a gasp and Eddie’s eyes are something darker now, pinned on him, before he dives back in, almost pulling Buck into his lap. When they break apart, they stay together, foreheads joined and hands clutching each other, the car now filled with heated breaths.

“We probably need to talk.” Buck thought his stomach had already hit terminal velocity, but it lurches again. “Because I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.” And he’s soaring now, so far from the ground that he can’t see it for the clouds that he’s floating on.

“Me neither,” he manages to blurt out once his brain to mouth connection is back online, prompting a shy smile from Eddie.

“We can do it at the campsite though – we should only be another half an hour away, then we’ll have…all the time in the world.” The words are solemn and settle his heart in a way that only Eddie, in his steadfastness, ever could. As he moves to start the car again, Eddie gently places his hand back over his, and lets it stay there as they get back on the road. 

The wind blows through the open windows, cooling his flushed cheeks, although Eddie’s hand is still a constant warm presence. Music plays gently in the background, and the sound of the open road under his truck tyres sings with possibility.

He thinks to himself, “it’s not supposed to feel this good,” but he catches himself, flipping his hand to squeeze Eddie’s gently and feeling him hold on tighter in return. He’s allowed this – to feel content and excited and wanted. He feels _good_.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [himbo-buckley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kriz/pseuds/himbo-buckley/) for making me think about Buck’s skin health in the LA sun, so we’ve now got two instances of him putting on sunscreen (let’s assume he re-applies in the day) as well as one of him being **red** lol
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated, as well as [sharing on tumblr](https://oneawkwardcookie.tumblr.com/post/627467307538579456/you-are-always-looking-out-for-me/), and you can come and shout at me on my [tumblr](https://oneawkwardcookie.tumblr.com/) about Buddie!


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